She took a breath. Man this was harder than she thought.
The reply seemed to come back faster this time. “Is she pregnant?”
Oh God. No, she couldn’t answer that. She couldn’t lie about that. Not even for her plan. Not after everything Owen and Tegan had gone through. But she was convinced her idea could work, and it would help Owen. But even if it did work, even if it did help, she knew, even if Owen and Tegan forgave her, she’d never forgive herself for abusing the horror they had gone through.
Play on the greed, FiFi,she told herself.You’ve got these vultures intrigued.These were the ones that launched the bullshit witch hunt against Owen in the first place. She could use that.You’ve said you don’t want money.They were free to run with this however they wanted. All she had to do was give them one final nudge.
She let out a sigh. “What do you think?”
There. Perfect. She hadn’t said anything that would shame anyone. She had given THEM all the info they needed without actually saying anything. In reality, she had asked a question, but how they interpreted it was up to them.
Fiona waited for a moment or two, flicking glances up at Owen whose line up of fans hadn’t eased at all. He was properly distracted as Fiona kept refreshing her browser on the Who Daily page. Time seemed to crawl by until she had to suddenly do a double take. The page had refreshed, and a new post had been created, featuring her blacked out picture.
“He Won’t Stop!”was the title. Fiona clicked the post and continued to read. It was short.“An exclusive reveal to Who Daily: serial womaniser Owen Gasnier has struck again. In another display of inexcusable arrogance, the MMA superstar has allegedly impregnated the unknown woman pictured below, a close friend revealed. Gasnier is in town preparing for his title fight later this year.”
Fiona immediately copied the link to the article, deleted her fake account, and opened up her true account. She pasted the article on her page and blasted it. She called it every name under the sun, and posted it on Owen’s wall, and every MMA page she could find. It didn’t take long for comments to begin. Some putting Owen down. But she had expected that. The others that were trickling in were trashing the article. Until, finally, the article reached the ‘right’ people. Those with their phones already out and him on their minds. Those in front of her on the beach. They were uploading their own photos to their social media accounts.
“WTF? This was taken on Bondi Beach. He’s HERE TODAY. TAKING PICS WITH FANS!”
“LOL. You guys are pathetic. #TEAMGASNIER.Chris,you see this?”
Chris uploaded a selfie taken with Owen and left a reply. “This pic was taken five minutes ago. See the hotel in the background? It’s exactly the same. I don’t believe anything you guys say about him. Shame on you. I’m on #TEAMGASNIER.”
Fiona took a group shot of all the fans lining up to see Owen, most of whom she knew had no idea this was going on. She posted the picture in the replies and labelled it: “How many of these women are you going to falsely accuse him of screwing next? I hope he sues you for defamation. None of these allegations are true, and you can’t prove anything. Gutter trash.”
Comments kept flying in.
“LEAVE GAZ ALONE!”
“Anything for a story.”
“What a joke.”
“Desperate for a headline? Slow news day?”
“Ha! Epic fail.”
Fiona finally felt free to close her phone. Her plan had worked. She’d been able to utilise social media and the current situation to bring his fans out to defend him when he’d done nothing wrong. Something they hadn’t had the chance to do when the ‘scandal’ first hit. OK, so it wasn’t going to win the fight for him. It wouldn’t even make the prospects of him winning any better. But it did one thing at least. It proved Diaz wrong. The people hadn’t completely turned on Owen. Maybe, just maybe, if Owen believed in the faith of the fans, even after all the horrible lies, he might just believe in himself enough to win.
* * *
Owen walked into Fiona’s apartment and bid her goodnight, thanking her again for the day. To just be himself, and not worry about any bullshit, was bliss. He loved the fans, and they gave him such an incredible boost he could not accurately describe his gratitude. He snuck into Tegan’s room just in case she was asleep.
She had her back turned and was under the covers when he slid in behind her.
She stirred slightly and gave a soft moan. “You shouldn’t be in here, Mr Gasnier.”
“Do you want me to leave?” he asked softly.
Tegan reached behind and tucked his arm underneath her. “Never... are you ok?”
Owen pressed his lips into her back. “I just needed to see you.”
“I’m right here,” she whispered, running her fingertips along his forearm, pressing her rear back into him. “Talk to me.”
Owen groaned. “It’s really hard.”
Tegan kissed his hand and bumped her ass into him again. “I noticed.”